HOUSE: A Cinderella Story
by VisserZer0
Summary: We had to write a Cinderella story for Language Arts and I did mine on House. I had alot of fun writing this so I haope you have alot of fun reading it! R&R please.


**A. N: Like it says in the description, an assignment I had to do for Language Arts. I receive 124/125 on this assignment so I hope you all like it as well!**

**HOUSE M. D:  
A Cinderella Story**

My name is House, Gregory House. I am a doctor at Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital in New Jersey. I am about forty-four years old. I walk with a cane because of my infarction surgery on my leg. It is for that reason that I also may just have a _slight_ addiction to Vicodin. I like to be right, and am afraid of being wrong. My friend and team consider me to be an arrogant, manipulative bastard. Well, they don't think I'm nice. They're not wrong, although I wish that they would stop reminding me about it constantly.

Anyway, this happy little story begins about a week ago in the hospital. It was in the middle of January of 2008. My mother had recently died in a car crash. If only it had been my father instead. He was an abusive jerk, but I had loved my mother. She had told me to treat my team better. Annoyingly, my team member, Dr. Eric Foreman, my friend, Dr. James Wilson, and Dr. Lisa Cuddy, the Dean of Medicine decided that this would be a good time to take revenge on me for being an arrogant jerk. They were forcing me to clean their offices, scrub their toilets, and basically everything else they could do themselves. They didn't even let me leave my office unless they needed something done, or if I had to eat, and sometimes they wouldn't even let me do that much. Now that I've been told to treat them better, they're treating me worse! Still, although I don't admit it, in fact I act like I think they're worthless peons, they are somewhat important to me.

"House," yelled Cuddy, "there is a rat in my office. Come and kill it."

"You actually want me to get it?" I asked, "because I was just going to let it chew through the power cord. You wouldn't need to pay the electric bill anymore. You should be happy about the rat in your office."

"Ha, ha," she fake laughed, "now go kill it!"

"Fine," I said, " but I'm not doing your laundry. Do you know how awkward it would be for me to handle your undergarments? That could almost be considered wrong."

"Just go get the rat, and I won't have to hurt you."

I decided against arguing and whooped out my cane. It turns out the little thing was chewing on the power cord. I thought twice before abruptly smacking it down. I even chipped my cane in the process. I'll have to get her for that. That was my favorite cane. It was black with flames at the bottom.

About ten seconds after I got back to my office, Wilson comes in with a plunger in his hand. I was going to have to unclog his toilet for the billionth time. I swear he was clogging it up on purpose, just so he could drag me out of my office to do work. _Yippy, _I thought to myself, _more labor._

"I'm with a patient!" I yelled, "come back when you learn to be less annoying."

"Yeah, right House," Wilson said, "why would you drag a patient all the way to your office?"

"Hmm, you got me there."

"Come unclog my toilet. It's backed up again."

While I was breaking my back over the toilet, Wilson just had to mention the big doctor's convention the next day that was being held by Dr. Allison Cameron.

"Why would I want to go to that?" I lied, "Just a bunch of morons going googly eyed over Cameron.

"I'd rather sit at home and play with my cane like any sensible person should."

"If you say so," Wilson said, "but keep plunging. That toilet's not going to unclog itself."

Okay, so I did want to go, but if I admitted that to Wilson, I'd never hear the end of it. Besides, I didn't even have a clean suit to wear. I can't even wash my clothes due to Foreman making the laundry room an anti-House zone or something like that. It's extremely annoying.

A few hours later, after sweeping Wilson's office, running a biopsy on Foreman's patient, and, of coarse, doing Cuddy's laundry, I decided to concoct an evil plot to get myself into the convention.

The time was about an hour before the convention. The covvention was to be held at seven o'clock in the evening. I told Wilson that I was going to eat lunch. Instead, I walked out into the hospital courtyard, got on the ground, and threw my cane in some nearby bushes. I then screamed in fake pain, and Wilson, being the gullible people-pleaser that he is, came running over to help.

"House, what happened?!" Wilson exclaimed,

"Oh, nothing," I said, "I just tripped over a rock."

"Okay," he said, and began to walk off,

"Wait!" I shouted at him, "could you get me my cane from out of the bushes?"

"Sure,"

He gave my cane, and right when I stood up, I shoved him into the bushes with it.

"You idiot," I said, laughing, "you actually fell for that."

"House, help me out of here!"

"Well, I would, but I have people to see, conventions to go to, you know, that stuff."

"You're a jerk."

"Thanks." I said, and calmly walked off. Wilson is such a pushover.

I went back inside, snuck passed Foreman and Cuddy, and then, washed my suit. About a half-hour later, I was ready for the convention.

I don't know I guess I was just too irresistible for Dr. Cameron to ignore. For the rest of the day, she wouldn't talk to anyone except me.

Everyone kept saying, "Is that House?" and then, "No, he's way too handsome to be that arrogant jerk."

Eventually, the clock struck midnight, and I said goodbye to Cameron and went home on my impressive, shiny new motorcycle. As I was tearing home, I realized my cane fell out from the back of my bike. I hoped that it would still be there in the morning.

I got home, played with my ball until I got drowsy, yawned a little, and finally went to sleep. I had a strange dream about a patient with an eating disorder.

I got up, ate a bowl of Frosted Flakes™, and went to work at the hospital. To my surprise, I found a huge line of limping people behind Dr. Cameron and yes, my cane! There was a big sign that read: will marry owner of cane. _What's that about? _I wondered.I stood at the back of the line until everyone had tried the cane, and failed to correctly use it.

"House, you already have a cane." Cameron said

"Yes, and I lost it last night," I stated "Remember from the convention?"

"That was you, House?"

"Yes, now can I have my cane back, pretty please?"

"If this is your cane, than I have found my true husband!"

With that, we set up a wedding date, and I married Dr. Cameron. Everyone showed up except for Wilson, who apparently fell asleep in the bushes. Ha, ha.

I guess even an arrogant jerk like me can be loved, and the world can be a jerk too. You just have to deal with it. That's the moral of the story folks.

And now, if you'll excuse me, I have lives to save. I am a doctor you know.

**This story was based off the TV show House M.D., created by David Shore.**

**Review! But none of those evil flames.**


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